


(Not My) Scene

by justdk



Series: Rovinsky Week 2018 [3]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M, i have no idea how to tag this, nsfwish?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 21:03:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14340852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justdk/pseuds/justdk
Summary: Kavinsky gets invited to a mysterious party and drags Ronan along





	(Not My) Scene

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Rovinsky Week, Day 3: Parties
> 
> NSFW (K and Ronan end up at a sex party. It’s not explicit in any way but just to be safe I’m tagging if as nsfw. FYI this is post-Aglionby so the guys are about 21)

“Why are we at this party again?” Ronan asked. He followed Kavinsky up the drive, passing car after beautiful car, pristine paint glistening under the full moonlight. The music had been audible from down the street where they had been forced to park, loud bass thumping in the otherwise quiet night. Ronan shivered and hunched his shoulders, glad for the warmth his jacket provided.

“I was invited,” Kavinsky said simply, “by one of my more reclusive clients. He implied that I would especially like what this party had to offer. All I needed to do was bring the party favors,” he shook the bag he was carrying and Ronan heard the rattle of pills in plastic bottles, “and a guest.” Kavinsky wrapped his arm around Ronan’s waist and pulled him close. He bit playfully at Ronan’s ear, tugging hard enough to hurt.

“Fuck, K,” Ronan protested, shoving his hand into Kavinsky’s face and pushing him away.

“Lighten the fuck up, Lynch,” Kavinsky said, laughing. “We’re here to have a good time.”

Ronan eyed Kavinsky skeptically. At substance parties, no matter what time of year it was, Kavinsky usually showed up wearing a tank and track pants, and by the end of the night he was typically shirtless or – on _very_ good nights – completely buck ass naked. Tonight he was sporting a sharp white suit, a blood red button up, and shoes that could only have come from a dream. He had dressed Ronan to complement him: black suit, black shirt, black tie. Ronan had to admit that they looked good, though the bruises on his knuckles and neck kept him from looking entirely respectable.

Kavinsky rang the doorbell and Ronan slouched against the doorframe. “You know what I’d rather be doing,” Ronan said sulkily.

Kavinsky’s hot gaze traveled down Ronan’s body and back up to meet his eyes. He bit his lower lip and grinned. “Oh, I know, baby.” He prowled closer and planted a lingering kiss on Ronan’s neck right over the bruises he had left the other night. “But you know,” he whispered into Ronan’s ear, “a place this big has plenty of empty rooms, if you want privacy. If not, well, I’m not shy.”

“Believe me, I know.” Kavinsky made a low, amused noise and slipped his hand into Ronan’s pants pocket, long fingers questing, pressing closer to Ronan’s groin. Ronan shuddered and held back a moan. So it was going to be one of _those_ nights. He grabbed Kavinsky’s wrist and pulled his hand away. Before he had a chance to say or do anything the door swung open revealing a man who was wearing… Ronan didn’t know what he was wearing but it wasn’t a lot.

“Hey, guys!” The man said, smiling at them like they were old friends whose name he couldn’t immediately recall. “Private party, where you invited?”

Kavinsky handed over the bag of pills and the man’s eyes widened, as did his toothy smile. “Ah! So you’re Kavinsky! Heard a lot about you. Danny’s in the main room, I’m sure he’ll want to greet you. He’s a little tied up at the moment.”

“Lovely,” Kavinsky said, his tone affected and posh. He pushed past the man and Ronan followed, curious about what exactly was happening in the main room.

“Oh! Shit! Hold up,” the man followed them down the entryway. “Uh… you guys are over 18, right?”

Kavinsky pivoted on his heel and turned to face the man. “Yeah.” He tugged Ronan’s arm. “We’re two consenting adults.”

“Good! That’s good,” the man sighed with relief. “I’m not the morality police by any means but the last thing we need are minors wandering in here.”

“No minors here, man,” Kavinsky said. He took Ronan’s hand and pulled him down the darkened hall, following the pounding beat of the music. They passed a few people on their way, all of them in various states of undress. Ronan felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle and his stomach churned.

They entered a large open room with a sunken floor. At one end was a bar and at the other was a stage. The middle of the room was an arrangement of couches and tables and chairs. The room was packed, almost as crowded as the club he and Kavinsky went to when they wanted to get out of Henrietta for the weekend. The lighting was subdued except for the stage, which was bathed in golden light.

Ronan took in these details but his attention was glued to what was happening on the stage, on the man tied to a rack, his skin red from the flogging he was receiving. Ronan flinched when the whip struck the man’s back and he squeezed Kavinsky’s hand too hard. It impossible to hear the man cry out over noise of the bass, though his mouth was stretched wide, his head tipped back, body bowed. Ronan had to look away. The public display of both pain and pleasure made something in him twist, but his mind very firmly rejected the feeling.

Looking away wasn’t much help because it only allowed him to see the way the other people in the room were conducting themselves. Ronan didn’t like to think of himself as sheltered or particularly straight-laced but he could _not_ deal with it. He dropped Kavinsky’s hand and, with as much dignity as he could muster, pushed towards the bar. He didn’t want to talk to the bartender so he swiped a couple bottles of beer from the fancy cooler and made his way to the glass doors at the other side of the room.

Ronan stepped out onto the patio and let the cold night air engulf him again. He cracked open a beer and took a long swallow, drinking half of it. He exhaled with a soft gasp and walked over to perch on the porch railing. The house was all by itself out here in the country and the large, well kept lawn rolled away until it met the eaves of the woods. The stars were bright overhead but dimmed somewhat by the moon. The noise at his back and the light slipping through the glass felt at odds with the tranquil night. Ronan finished the rest of the beer and let the bottle drop into the bushes. He couldn’t stop shivering. He wondered what Kavinsky was doing and tried not to get worked up as the minutes slipped by and still Kavinsky didn’t come find him. It was stupid to worry but he did anyway.

After drinking his second beer Ronan was left with the uncomfortable choice of either going in and getting another drink or hiding in the dark until whatever time Kavinsky decided they could leave. He knew he was being fucking ridiculous but his Catholic upbringing was giving the sex party a hard pass. He kicked his heels against the railing and blew out a breath just to watch the moisture condense into a white cloud before disappearing.

The door behind him slid open and Ronan turned to see who was trespassing on his private space but it was only Kavinsky. His white suit was smudged and his face was flushed. He came up behind Ronan and wrapped his skinny arms around Ronan’s waist and buried his face in Ronan’s back. He was so warm that Ronan shivered and grabbed Kavinsky’s hands, cupping them in-between his freezing palms.

“Damn, Ronan,” Kavinsky mumbled into his coat. “You’re cold as fuck. Come inside.”

Ronan shook his head. “Gonna have to say ‘no’ to that party, K.” He rubbed his thumb over Kavinsky’s wrist and stared out at the dark woods.

“Not your scene?”

Ronan’s laugh was dry. “What gave me away?”

Kavinsky’s hold tightened, drawing him closer. “Everything, babe.”

“Took you long enough to find me,” Ronan said, his tone petulant.

“I knew where you were,” Kavinsky replied. “Safe. Out having a private moment with the stars like you do.”

“Shut up.”

“Hmmm make me.” Kavinsky rubbed against Ronan’s back like a cat. It was difficult to stay annoyed with him when he was like this.

“What were you doing this whole time?” Ronan asked.

“Observing,” Kavinsky purred. “Then talking with our host after he cleaned up.”

“Uh-huh.” Ronan wanted to ask what had happened to make a mess of his suit and he _really_ wanted to ask when they could leave.

“Come inside,” Kavinsky said again.

Ronan snorted and turned so he could look at Kavinsky. “Only if you say ‘please.’”

“Ha!” Kavinsky tugged at Ronan until he capitulated and hopped off the railing. Ronan pulled up Kavinsky’s shirt and pressed his cold hands against Kavinsky’s back, hugging him to his chest. “You fucker!” Kavinsky yowled, trying to squirm out of Ronan’s tight grasp.

“Payback,” Ronan said. He leaned down and nuzzled Kavinsky neck.

“Even your nose is cold! What the shit, man!” Kavinsky complained.

“Mmmm. But you’re so hot, K,” Ronan teased. “I need you to warm me up.”

“You are the worst. I hate you.” Kavinsky grabbed the front of Ronan’s suit jacket, yanking him down, and kissed him roughly, biting at his lip. Ronan scraped his fingernails down Kavinsky’s back and sides before grasping his hips and jerking him closer.

“You said something earlier about private rooms?” Ronan asked breathlessly.

“Yeah,” Kavinsky answered. “Want me to blindfold you and lead you through the den of iniquity?” He reached up and tugged at Ronan’s black tie. “As I recall you’re partial to that.”

Ronan loosened his tie, pulled it off, and handed it to Kavinsky. “Don’t let me trip.”

“Don’t worry, baby. You’re in good, _good_ hands,” Kavinsky assured him. He slipped the tie around Ronan’s head again and tightened it over his eyes before placing a kiss behind Ronan’s ear. “Shall we?”

Kavinsky laced his fingers through Ronan’s and where Kavinsky led, Ronan followed.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr @dkafterdark


End file.
